Letters to Nanticoke
by Mimi Karibu Nyinyi
Summary: In the late days of June when the sun was the hottest, and streams bubbled over their shores, the letter came. It was a letter that tore my life apart and rebuilt it in the same rough, but strangely comforting stroke; it brought me closer to them, and him
1. Ausflug

**Disclaimer: It's Myers, not mine, I give….**

**Authors Note: To everyone about to embark on this Alice/Jasper tale I would like you to take note…. **

**This story has basically become my little baby. I love it dearly, and I hope you will too. I tried to fit as many original characters into the story as possible, you'll meet them later on. Sorry for putting people in that ya'll don't know of, I hate to do that but, bare with me. I'm going to be switching between POV's, so you can get the full idea of what's going on here. **

**Genre: Hurt/Comfort and Romance (Tee-hee-hee)**

**Note: No single character will do all the hurting nor will one do all the comforting, I hate it when that happens! Sometimes you just need to switch roles. (same goes for the Romancing)**

**History: **

**I'm writing this story because when I was young I practically grew up (at lease in the summer) in a little place on the outskirts of Wilkes-Barre. Later on we moved, and I haven't gone back since, but there were so many thing that I love about that place. And these daydreams going there kept cropping up. And, of course, I had to throw Alice into my day dreaming somewhere, and where there's an Alice there's a Jasper!!!! )I chose the second place to be in Philly, because I love that city, and it's awesome.)**

**Happy Reading!!! ******

**APOV:**

In the late days of June when the sun was the hottest, and streams bubbled over their shores, the letter came. It was a letter that tore my life apart and rebuilt it in the same rough, but strangely comforting stroke; it brought me closer to them, and him, and my future family. But it lost me so much too.

~****~

I lived on the southern end of Nanticoke, by the fifth fire engine station just off of Mary-Ann Street. I was the twenty-fourth house on Elis, the only one on the block with lime green shutters, in fact, we were the only ones to ever have lime shutters in Nanticoke, period.

If you were to ask some one from the area who lived there, or how many kids the parents had, or their jobs, or education, anyone could tell you. It wasn't because I lived in a big fancy house, or we had a lot of money (because we definitely didn't), or the neighbors were really nosy, or anything of that sort; it was just because they knew. Everyone knew everyone else and everyone liked everyone else; or a least they tried to. We all just had to stick together, times could be though, and, to be honest, it wasn't much of a town to start with but we held strong, glued together with familiarity and Ms. Hemper's seasonal fruitcake.

When I was young, I was involved in a terrible horseback riding accident. The horse had a rare condition, heart problems I think. It had keeled over dead, and pinned me to the ground underneath it during a ride. I have no memories of the incident or any memories prior to the date. The head trauma left me def and blind for some time afterwards, too. It stole every thing my mind had saved, wiping my head blank of anything and everything. Though, it is getting better, bits and pieces fall into place every now and then, and I have relearned to read and write. But I still can't make much out of all the memories.

My mother and father, from what I can gather, took me back to our home after I was allowed to leave the hospital and kept me there for a few days. I have no idea what possessed them to do it, but after less than two weeks, and repeated exorcisms by the local priest, I was sent to the Mercy Medical Hospital, located just outside Wilkes-Barre. They placed me in the psychiatric ward, and left town. I never heard from them again.

My memories of those times have faded, but of the shattered thoughts that still remain in my consciousness, they were horrific. The stagnant lights of the fluorescents in my room along with the strong sent of piss and bleach slowly stole my mind from me. To pass the time I would sit atop the radiator by my small cracked window and try my best to predict the weather. I became quite good at it.

At first the nurses and even some of the doctors would sit with me and try to talk, but it scared me. These people I had never seen before in my life, talking at me, holding me captive in this plastered cell…I wanted nothing to do with them. After a few weeks they caught the jist and stopped coming unless I needed food, or my sheets changed.

There were times when my mind lapsed and I was no longer in the hospital, no longer in my cell. I could not wonder in these 'dreams', I guess that's what they were, I couldn't leave the hospital literally and go where I wanted, see what I wanted to see. But I could watch, and that's all I really needed. I could watch people, their families and friends, the doctors, the nurses, all at random and at any time, there was never a pattern and I was never able to control when they came or stopped. In time this became more interesting to me than the T.V. that hung from the ceiling in my room. It was all I really had to personally entertain me.

Some time later, when the days became too numerous to count, an old woman by the name of Mim came into the center and identified me as her great-granddaughter. By now most of my sight had returned as with my hearing, but I was still hard of both. She explained to me that she had adopted me and I would be moving back with her in Nanticoke.

When I was in the hospital no one had used my name. I was a number, a barcode for the doctors and nurses, over time I lost my name; I still do not know what I was called before that time in the hospital.

When Mim had asked me for the first time what I liked to be called, I was confused, and told her the room number I stayed in. She had shaken her head and repeated the question. I then gave my bed number, and my ID number too, but to no avail. A nurse was called, and my files brought up, because they too, had forgotten my name.

When my name was read, it sounded odd, out of place for me. When I repeated the word the nurse smiled in a fake way and Mim nodded vigorously. But I shook my head and scrunched my nose up like I did when I had the hospital's morning oatmeal. I said it again and shook my head. Mim was obviously confused for she said something else to the nurse, who interne shook her head again, and read out my name, this time it was longer and something in it caught my attention. I said the one part of the word slowly, then repeated it again, and again, and again, by the time I was done the word was echoing through the small room in loud, strong, high pitched tones.

"Al-ice"…"Alice"…"_Alice_"…"**Alice!**"

The crinkled, toothy smile on Mim's face was one I saw every day from that point on.

~****~

Her house was old, and fairytale-like, with three stories and a set of the brightest lime green shutters I've ever seen on every window. There was a short black rod iron fence that had to be at least a century old, which encircled the property. A large Rhododendron sat contently to the left of the white porch steps, its buds were the color of a dark plumb. From what I could see the porch seemed to wrap around the whole house, and there were three wicker rocking chairs placed in the front. A small off-white coffee table accompanied them.

The concrete slabs which laid out a short path to the porch stairs were skewed, and cracked with tree roots fighting for dominance over the familiar walking route.

"Watch you step now, dear." I heard the old woman murmur, as she carefully lifted the hem of her skirt to see were she was going.

The porch steps creaked under our weight, as did the porch itself. When she opened the door an overwhelming smell of peppermint assailed my nose and a sudden feeling hit me, an overpowering emotion that I had never known from my days at Mercy. It was like I should know something, something very important. But nothing came…why was that?

"Alice, dear, why don't you step in?" Mim was already in the house, holding the door open for me and motioning me to enter with her other hand.

I heard the porch whine once more before I crossed the carpeted threshold and Mim shut the door.

The living room ran the horizontal length of the house; straight beyond and to the right was a pale green tiled kitchen and breakfast nook. Large windows on the far end of the wall allowed me to see out onto the patchy grass lawn. On the right side of the house was a small room, in which nothing more than a stand-up piano and a pinstriped, overstuffed chair could fit. To the far right of the living room there was a carpeted staircase which Mim was already ascending, as I followed her in found that these too spoke in high pitched squeals when stepped upon. I couldn't help but giggle, it's like the house was talking to me…

All sorts or pictures lined the walls of the staircase and second floor walls; they ranged from small to large, black to white, photos to paintings. All scattered about on the walls that still smelled of Peppermint.

The room was the first on the left, where it faced out towards the main street, from there I could see the 'Russian Pizza' sign hanging haphazardly on the building a cross the street, an old pink neon sign stood in the window flickering every now and then proclaiming that the pizzeria was open.

Mim set my small pack of clothing on the floor by the door and said something that I couldn't catch. I was far too transfixed on small pink room.

It ran length of the lower living room with a small sliding-door closet to the left where the staircase was low enough to allow it. I flicked on the cream colored light switch and couldn't help trace my hand over the dark, hard wood switch cover. The alternating pink and white wallpaper around the room peeled in some corners, but it was nothing a little wood glue couldn't fix.

I kept my hand firmly pressed to the wall and felt the small hard bumps run under my hand as I walked over to the pink clad bead sitting in the far right corner. When I sat, to no surprise, the bed let out a metallic squeal and I cracked a smile.

I drew in a big breath and exhaled in a gust letting my shoulders sag.

Outside the previously blue sky was now died a deep purple with the murky grey night lagging just around the edges. Across the street the bell attached to the Pizzeria's door rang as a couple walked in, the woman ducking under the man's arm to escape the oncoming night.

I felt the ends of my mouth turn up. What courtesy he had, or at least that's what I thought it to be, he had let the woman go ahead, that was supposed to be good right?

Perhaps one day a man will hold the door open for me and I could duck under his arm. It wouldn't be too hard considering how short I was.

No, no, no. Silly Alice, who would want to open a door and be polite to a psychotic little girl like you? I felt my high mood fade a bit.

But Mim was polite to me, and she even opened a door for me too. Maybe someone else could as well. I felt a joy rising in my chest.

No, once again, it couldn't happen. Mim was a woman, and it's different when a woman opens the door verse a man… isn't it? I was starting to feel confused.

I let my back relax and I felt myself fall backward onto the pillows behind me. They smelled like peppermint too, but this time there was a faint smell of moth balls underneath it all.

I smiled a little, I don't think this was my home, my true home, but right now it sure felt good.

I spent God knows how long staring at the rainbow-patterned plaster and the bowl shaped light on the ceiling before my vision started to blur.

This for me could mean one of two things; either A: I was tiered and I just needed to sleep, or B: the visions were coming again.

Please let it not be that, I just started living a semi-normal life, I didn't want it to stop. I wanted Mim to like me, not think I was some freak like everyone else did. I didn't want to go back to the hospital, not now, not ever.

Blinking furiously I willed myself to wake up, shake off the oncoming sleep, or that's at least what I lied and told myself it was.

But no matter how hard I tried and no matter how many times I blinked the room faded away and my head spun.

When I opened my eyes I knew I would no longer be in my room. It was, though, a surprise to find myself just one story lower, standing in the living room of Mim's house.

_The sun outside illuminated all the small specks of dust floating in the air and from somewhere behind me there was a soft hissing sound. By the time I turned around I saw me walking out of the kitchen arch way and over to the front door. _

_When the door was pulled open a greasy long-haired boy stepped in and kicked off his wel- loved hiking boots. He wore a knee-length pair of jeans and an oil stained t-shirt. His hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck in a green rubber band and some leaves and twigs were logged between the greased strands. _

_His eyes were green and his mud smeared face had the biggest, toothiest grin I've ever seen. It even out did Mims, and that was hard to do._

_Then the picture froze mid-frame while he extended his grimy hand for me to shake._

_First to fade was the living room, then the fringes of his body. His arms, legs, torso, until all that could be seen of him was his Irish-green eyes and toothy smile while the hissing and crackling continued._

_Just before the dim-out line of the pink wallpaper in my room came back into focus I heard a Koo-Koo-Clock sound nine times... _

When I knew I was no longer in my vision I rolled over on my bed so I could see the green glow of the digital alarm clock saying it was a little after two in the morning. The lights were off in my room, I didn't recall getting up to do that, or maybe Mim turned them off.

I got up and felt my way over to my duffle bag and rummaged through it until I found my sweat pants and PJ top.

My first night at Mim's, so far so good… at least she hasn't thrown me out yet.

We would just have to see how long that lasted…

~****~

**Thanks! And please, don't keep your opinion to yourself; let it be known, R&R!!! **


	2. Ringlet

**First things first! Disclaimer:**

**Roses are red,**

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own Twilight,**

**And that's shitty as poo…**

**Okay, BIG, BIG, BIG thanks to all who reviewed, I really appreciated it, and it totally made my week. So thanks again!**

**To Object-of-your-imprint, Luna, and daydreamnikki thank you soooo much for the fave, it made me warm and fuzzy inside ;) And to contygoldbarg, claralovesjalice, daydreamingnikki (by the way love your name!), and Luna thanks for reviewing and telling me 'yeh', or 'neh' with the story, it really kept me going. And for all those who put me on their alert list, thanks, you're awesome!!!! I felt more warm fuzzies after I looked at those….**

**Today you'll hear Jasper's input about his day. I'm trying to over lap their (Alice and Jasper's) days, as per time, as mach as possible in this story.**

**Also, there are some links for the places of certain things, because most people don't go around memorizing the layout of US cities and towns on my profile, check them out!**

**So, with out further ado, I give you Chapter two!!!**

**JPOV:**

By the time I could stop vomiting enough to get down, and keep down, even a decent amount of liquid it was about two in the morning. Some Taxi was blaring its fucking horn outside in the parking lot, which was doing nothing for my headache, and I hurt in just about every place possible.

Note to self: never pig out on Chinese food that's been in a cooler for over four days…

Though, if someone wouldn't have broken in and stolen my frig, I wouldn't have this problem, nor would I be missing two days of work.

I squished my eyes closed and tried to block out the sound of the cars five-stories below.

How long did it take to get over a bout of food poisoning anyway? It felt like I had been trapped in this hell hole for ages. I sighed and rolled over for probably the hundredth time that night.

I mean come on?! Who in the world breaks into a random apartment and steals nothing but a fucking frig?!?! And what's more, the apartment complex wouldn't even compensate me for it. What the hell?!

I groaned and rolled over again, pulling the cover's over my head this time. The taxi was still honking.

This fucking sucked…

My fat fur-ball, Ringlet, was curled up to my side and had been purring like a drunken maniac, her tail twitching in her sleep, for nearly the whole night. You would have thought she was the one stocked up on meds.

I sighed and scratched her behind the ear, she started thumping her foot like a dog, and I couldn't help but crack a smile. It was an odd habit of hers, and it always made me smile.

Somewhere after that I passed out again.

My sleep for the rest of that morning sucked. Scratch that, it sucked balls. I couldn't go for more than half an hour max before I would wake up and wretch. So much for keeping the fluids down…

~****~

The sun was up by the time my headache had settled down. My pillow was thrown over my head to stop the light from getting to my eyes. On any other day I would have just gotten up and closed the blinds but I just couldn't will myself to move. My throat hurt like hell and my mouth still tasted like vomit.

I heard the rattle of keys out side my door and I hoped it wasn't our usual hobo in the complex trying to scrounge up some food. It pissed me off really; it was hard enough living in this city let alone having some one steal your crap. Which brings me back to the frig thing...

When the lock clicked I started to go through the list of people who had my apartment keys. A dense thud resonated from the door, then another before I could hear soft cursing in French followed by a loud bang, and the sound of the door flying back and hitting the wall.

I chuckled to myself, my door was way too big for its frame, so it always got stuck and I wound up either having to put a ton of shoulder into it, or kicking it in. No matter how many times I try to tell the repair man what's wrong with it I wound up getting a blank stare and some gibber-gabber in Spanish. Another think that pissed me off; your in America, speak English.

Most people got the hang of kicking my door in the first time they came; some even enjoy it, like Emmitt, who always yells something stupid when it flies open. Though, the constant kicking hasn't left my door unscarred. It now has a tell tale black mark by the doorknob from all the shoe prints. Which much to the disapproval of my scrubbing has refused to come off. Plus, during the hotter months when the humidity is up the door swells even more, making it all but impossible, even with an Emmitt kick, to get open. But, fortunately it was only the beginning of January, and cold as ever, so if anything, I think my door shrank a little.

There was a double click of high-heels in the hallway before some more huffing and cursing in French and I heard my door snap shut. I knew who it was before she rounded the corner of my small studio.

There were quite a few people I knew who spoke French, but only a select few who had my apartment keys, and only one who wore high-heels to kick a door in at seven-thirty in the morning.

Charlotte.

There was now only a single click on my wooden floors when she walked, and I assumed it was because she was tip-toeing. A squeak from my cabinets and another curse told me that she was probably going through my food supply.

God bless them…Peter and Charlotte had taken to this as their new found hobby after I got laid off from my last job.

Which let me tell you I was not complaining about, that job sucked. I already had two other jobs on top of that one, and manually unloading fifty and one-hundred pound bags of concrete killed my back. Plus the manager was a gay man-whore.

Sure, it was a little harder to pay the bills around here, and I was eating more Spaghettio's than I ever had but, hey, at least I wasn't getting hit on by triple-chinned 'Fabio', or having to worry about getting my ass goosed.

I pushed my pillow to the side a bit, just so I could peer out from under it. She had her back to me and sure enough, was going through my cupboards with a duffle bag full of soup cans and cereal boxes to her right on the counter. "Hey, Charlotte…" I tried to say, but it came out sounding more like a hoarse croak.

There was a sharp inhale as she spun around, "Oh my God!" she whispered, "I am so sorry! I did not mean to wake you!" Her French accent came out more when she was flustered, her s's sounded more like z's, and most of her words were swallowed in the back of her throat.

I shook my head moving the pillow farther off my face and tried to clear my throat as best I could, but it still hurt like hell, "You didn't, I was already up…"

Her perfectly plucked brow creased and she shook her head as she moved closer, "Damn Major, you sound terrible!" she swallowed her last word, and I attempted a chuckle, but gave up because it felt like a knife was being shoved down my esophagus.

"It sounds worse than it really is." I assured her, croaking like a frog, and smiled weakly. She didn't look convinced.

I pushed my pillow aside and tried to sit up. Bad idea. The sun hit me full force and pain shot through my head from the sudden light. I groaned and flopped back down on my pillow, and threw my arm over my eyes. My stomach gave a sudden jolt.

"Here, let me get zat for you." I heard the double click of her shoes and felt the weight shift on my bed as she leaned on it to pull down the blinds. "Z'ere you go." She said as the light faded.

When I opened my eyes the mind-numbing pain from the mocking sun-shine was gone. Thank God. "Thanks" I murmured. "that's a lot better"

The tightening feeling in my stomach was coming back but I tried to ignore it as best I could, the last thing I wanted to do was puke in front of Charlotte.

From all the commotion Ringlet had snuck out from under the covers and was trying to woo Charlotte as best she could. Her brown eyes stretched as far as they could open to give the most pitiful look. She sat, balancing on her one front leg, meowing loudly, her tail twitching in anticipation for food.

"Oh, you cute little thing, has Jasper not been loving on you?" She cooed gently, taking the affection-mooch into her arms. "You just get bigger and bigger every time I see you."

She rubbed noses with the dark, tabby cat and began whispering affections in French and scratching her ear so that her one back leg began to twitch again.

I sighed, and glanced around my apartment. I had about twenty text books piled up next to my desk on the other side of my 20' by 12' 'living room', which was currently being used as my holding cell. My bookshelf by my desk snapped in half last week. (I guess I forgot to read the weight limit) So, until I got a new one all of my school books were taking up residence on the floor, I just hoped to God the bugs would leave them be. I really didn't have any other place to put them. My desk was so full of papers, bills, assignments extra I barley had enough elbowroom to type.

The basil plant on my bay windowsill had started to bud and I made mental note to myself to nip it before it flowers, because after it blooms it just curls up and dies. The Basil plant helped to keep away bugs, and there was no way I was going to pay five bucks at Giant Eagle to get another one of those things.

My futon, which I usually had in sitting position, was now pulled out into a bed and was nearly touching the stools at my kitchen counter. Yeah, my apartment was fucking small. The kitchen was almost 5' by 6'; it really made me cherish my old kitchen at the ranch. That thing had two ovens, a six-burner stove, and an island. Not to mention a shit load of room to move around in.

When I first moved in here, along with the missing door, the place didn't even have an oven. I went down to the office every day and complain about it, but it wasn't till Emmett showed up and started cussing them out, did they really even give it a second thought. Then as if that wasn't enough my frig was stolen (you could tell I was having some right luck with this place)

When I looked back at Charlotte she had Ringlet by her side on the counter and was back to restocking the shelves.

"Charlotte! Don't put her up on the counter like that! I don't want cat butt were I make my food." I grumbled, I was trying to teacher her good habits not shit ones.

She turned and stuck out her tongue. "Calm down Jasper, it is not like she can hop up here on her own." She turned her attention to the two-legged cat, "he can be such a grumpy butt some times, can't he?" The cat meowed in response. It seemed to encourage Charlotte more because her face became obscured, and funny looking, like when a mother talks to her babe, "_Wee_, he can, _wee_, he is a grumpy butt!" she began to rub noses with the cat and Ringlet started purring again, "yes he is, yes he is…"

I rolled my eyes at them. Sometimes I wonder if I should have just given Ringlet to Peter and Charlotte. And I'm sure if not for Peter's allergies they would have taken the deformed creature right on the spot.

Though, nowadays, every time I think of parting with her I can't help but feel a small prick of pain, I was beginning to love the little fur ball more and more. I think it's because we both, to the average person, would have seemed too wounded to bother dealing with.

Like an old toy that had lost its charm and was cast aside.

We both went trough hard times in our lives, and came out better, stronger, perhaps not physically, but mentally. It was like a bond between two underdogs, and I think she felt it too.

On any other day I would have talked to Charlotte more, but my stomach really smarting and every time I opened my mouth to talk it just made me want to puke more and more. I must have been thinking for a while because next thing I knew Charlotte was putting Ringlet back on the linoleum floor and packing up the random plastic bags that were thrown around my counters.

"You really do need to stop doing this…" I said, feeling the vomit rise in my mouth, I had to get her out of here quick before I up-chucked.

"Doing what, Jasper? I don't know what you are talking about…." Charlotte tended to be a very bad liar, unless she was hard pressed. Her chestier-cat-smile showed all.

We stared at each other for a few moments her smirking, and I glaring before I finally gave in and fell back down on my futon and rolled my eyes. I regretted the act instantly, because my stomach gave another skinning jolt from the sudden movement.

"Well, if you are done shooting me with imaginary daggers, I will be going. We are serving Clafloutis tonight, and we have not even begun to get the ingredients together!" she giggled and her high heels clicked around the corner of my studio.

"Oh, and by the way," She added stopping by the door, out of sight of me, "Peter says he will personally rip your spleen out if you didn't eat something..?" by the end of her remark it sounded more like she was asking me a question, "Yes, I think I got that right…If not…" she yelled while wrenching open the door, "I s'ink you get what he means."

And with that, (pluse a loud bang form my gay door) she was gone, and within seconds I was retching over my bed, and Ringlet was Meowing like a heartbroken drunkard by the door. I guess it shows how I stack up against Charlotte.

It was now a little past eight. Had I been working that day, I would be down with Charlotte and Peter making whatever the hell they were serving for dinner at their restaurant, 'Goûter die Mundos' ( It means 'Taste the Worlds', and don't ask me why they named it that, I have no clue). I sighed; right about now I would give anything to be able to be to the kitchen with them. Peter was practically my brother, and the same went for Charlotte.

Peter and I were close, real close. We weren't really related, but I had pulled his ass out of some tight spots and he had done the same for me, so we were practically kin. When Peter I were young we both decided to become 'blood brothers', it was kind of a fad at the time, you would both cut yourselves and press the two wounds together, so that each person had a little blood form the other. It was stupid and childish, not to mention a great way to spread disease, but hey, we were kids and it seemed pretty cool to us at the time.

By now Ringlet had given up on serenading the door and was trying hopelessly to jump back up onto the bed. That was the one problem, she could hop down from somewhere, jut not back up, "Here girl" I whistled and she bounced over to my outstretched arm. I lifted her off the wooden floors and nestled her in beside me. A little while after that I blacked out. Last I knew Ringlet was purring like a maniac, and the ass in the parking lot below was still honking.

Sometimes life could be truly fucked up, but other times it wasn't too bad, right now I couldn't decide which one it was….

~****~

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	3. Langweilig

**Disclaimer: **

**Roses are red, **

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own Twilight,**

**And that's shitty as poo.**

**Ok, to all of the people out here reading this, thanks for the faves, alerts, and hits in general. A special, very happy thank-you-hug goes out to contygoldberg, cause she's an awesome reviewer like that. There aren't any new links on my profile, just the three from last time, so check them out if you haven't already. **

**Also, if you are having trouble reading the chapter titles, it's because 1 and 3 are in German. If you want I'll post the translations on my next update.**

**Ich libe meine Deutsch! **

**Happy reading! **

**APOV:**

I woke up a lot in the night and even after the sun rose, tinting my eyelids red with light. I had this odd internal alarm clock; it woke me up every morning at three, and if I didn't feel like getting up then it woke up continuously after that.

No exceptions. Ever.

Every time I would wake and see colors change behind my eyelids, like some abstract portrait come to life, I would squeeze my eyes shut more and more till they were completely black and, for a moment, it was like I had killed that odd living portrait. Like I had crushed that small, peculiar flower, or stepped upon some fluttering butterfly. For they were, in my mind, the same as that moving, gliding, changing, portrait- strangely, beautiful, and yet somehow a sickening makeshift.

My pillow smelled, not of bleach and stagnant death like at the hospital, but of Christmas. The cheery, musical Christmas that was so bitter with cold that it burned your nose with a frozen flame when you breathed; almost like when the snow was thick and iced over so that it shone, white and pearly, like a freshly glazed pastry. And a breath caught and clung heavily and easily to the cracked windows of my room, and the windows of many other rooms alike mine.

The smell was burly, and never seemed to dissipate. I took another deep breath. It reminded me of the spiraled peppermint sticks that the doctors and nurses hung on the tall pine tree that was put out in the hospital's lobby every winter.

Christmas was one of the few times I would sneak out of my room and run with the other escaped children, but not as true friends, just as a pack, a herd. For it made it much easier to snatch the red and white spiraled canes from the sap-filled bows and sneak away unnoticed to your room. One lone child was really no worry compared to the troubles accompanied with a mass of straying children around Christmas, always grabbing and running and screaming in their high pitched wails.

But something was underneath the peppermint smell; it was something that I hoped feverishly was not made by my imagination.

Mothballs…

Old stale mothballs…

Why would mothballs be in my hospital room, much lesson my pillow?

That was something I really couldn't figure out.

Unless, my dream from last night was true, and I_ was_ in that creaking old house, with the pizza parlor across the street, and if that was all true the base fact would have to be that I was out of the hospital.

I was out of the hospital.

I was free…

It felt like an immense weight had been lifted off my stomach, a sickening, but uplifting feeling.

_Oh, my God_…. and then reality set in, _shit…_

There I was getting ahead of myself. Giving myself false hope when I knew well that the standard Quaker's Oatmeal would be waiting for me on my plastic night stand, by now probably cold and desiccated. I was back in the hospital, well actually I had never left it, damn. I tried to smell my oatmeal, and wondered briefly to myself if I should even try to eat it today, or just flush it down the toilet like I did most other times.

Then something froze in me, and I sniffed again, still keeping my eyes squeezed tight. And that was just the thing; there was no plastic-oatmeal smell, just mothballs and peppermint, and the softest pillow I've ever felt beneath my head.

Well, this was a fickle situation: could it be that my abnormally crazy dream from last night wasn't my imagination overreacting to the hospital's bad food, was it real? I sniffed again and found the air totally absent of anything but peppermint and mothballs.

Wow.

Just wow.

But did I really want to open my eyes and crush this little mental uprising? No, to be quite honest, not really. I'd had plenty of mental bout's with myself, little arguments or daydreams during which the nurses and even the maids would steer clear of my room for days on end, and my meals would be left at the door of my room. But this, this dream slash dream-come-true was just… well; I think I summed it up before, WOW…

Now, came the time of true reckoning. Did I want to open my eyes and see that my nose had lied to me, and my oatmeal was indeed sitting on my nightstand, or just lay here all day and night watching the moving colorful blobs behind my eyelids until the dream came back?

To be quite honest that was a hard one to answer.

I really didn't want to open my eyes but… at that time my stomach decided to object and growled, lurching violently.

I guess I really couldn't just lie here….

Poo.

Fine then, on the count of three.

One…

I clenched my hands.

Two…

I took in the biggest breath I could fit in my lungs.

Three…

I heaved myself up off the minty bedspread, and forced my eyes open.

The light hit me with a brightness that I had never before received from my dusty, clouded window in the hospital. It warmed my skin, and stung at my eyes till I couldn't take it and I had to look away, blinking my eyes repeatedly.

The room was the exact shade as in my dreams, with the same repeating cream and pink pictures on it. Little Easter chicks huddled round an outcropping of underbrush.

Once my eyes were somewhat adapted to the new light, I looked around my room, though it took me a while before I could catch everything, the white streaks from light were still branded into my pupils.

On the furthest side of the room, closest to the windows, was the same wooden sliding-door closet. One of the panels was slightly slanted, probably because it had come off its rail. Outside of the dusty, also pink clad, windows, the Pizzeria's neon sign was dim and a piece of yellowed paper stuck to the glass. Written across it was a word I couldn't quite make out.

I pinched myself, hard, and winced at the pain. Yep, I was awake, sure as sugar.

I hadn't really noticed it before but there was a fat, squatting chest that I could just make out over the top of rusted silver lip at the bottom of the bed. I pulled my feet over the side of the mattress and pulled myself up and out of the pink and white sheets. I regretted it immediately. Outside of my warm little cocoon the frozen air hit me as if I had walked straight into winter himself. Tearing the matching pink quilt off the bed I wrapped it around me, it was still warm with my body heat and I stood there a moment savoring the heat.

Then I remembered the small crouching chest and moved around to the side of the room to see it. The trunk was sandwiched in-between the wall with the windows and my bed. It looked old…seriously old and I couldn't help but wonder who made it, or what was in it.

My stomach growled again and remembered that I hadn't eaten since yesterday at the hospital. The old chest left my mind completely.

Boy was I hungry.

Pulling the quilt tighter around me I shuffled over the dusty white carpet to my rucksack and shook it out looking for more cloths to wear. A T-shirt and sweat pants were not going to do it for me here. I pulled another pair of slacks on top of my dingy grey ones and tugged a sweatshirt from the hospital's gift shop over my shirt. I threw the quilt on top of the bed, and made a mental note to smooth it out before Mim saw it, or this crazy dream ended, whichever came first.

I made I quick stop at the bathroom to relieve myself. I found it after wondering about a little bit upstairs. It, like my room seemed to have a one-color theme; blue, blue tile, blue rugs, a blue toilet and sink, and so on and so forth.

When I exited I lost my bearings for a quick second, I wasn't quite used to the house yet. The carpet that covered the hall floors rolled lazily down the narrow stairs bunching here and there. The color, I supposed was originally white, but now it looked caught somewhere between cream and grey.

I took my time going down the stairs, stopping at every step to admire the new set of portraits before me. I traced each frame with my index finger, stirring up dust, and willing myself to remember anything, anything at all. There were many little children on the wall posed with their families and I stared at each one with intensifying frustration.

Where was I? I was starting to get frantic, I could feel my heart racing and it was as if a boa constrictor was wrapped around my chest, for it got tighter and tighter.

Then I froze. Even if I did see myself in a picture how would I know it was me and not just another person who looked like me, because family was supposed to look alike… right? I had never taken note to my appearance before because I had never needed to.

Darting up to the bathroom I slammed and locked the door. I hoisted myself up on top of the sink counter and, while crouching on my knees, I pressed both of my hands on either side of the small medicine cabinet mirror and looked long and hard trying to find anything that would distinguish me from the rest of the children.

Never before had I notice how unattractive I looked, and it made my heart sink low, lower than I think it had ever gone, and my chest ached even more.

My hair, which looked like something a cat coughed up, was jet black and stuck out in short tufts no longer than two or three inches. The brows above my eyes were thin and the same inky black. They had a nice curve to them, but they were still scant and all but nonexistent. My nose was small and my lips weren't at all puffed out and thick like I had seen in the magazines I had snatched from the hospital lobby. They were a pale peachy-pink in color and slightly though my lower lip did, thank God, have a little lift to it. The bones in my cheeks were raised, but not filled in. They almost pulled into my face; I didn't like it because it reminded me of a skeleton. The skin on my face was pale, and shallow, which tinted it almost a grayish color. Under my dark coffee-colored eyes there were large deep circles of blue and purple, like someone had slugged me. One of my ears, I noticed stuck out farther from my head than the other throwing the symmetry of my face totally off. I guess I hadn't really noticed before because of the rat's nest on my scalp. My neck seemed just too long for my short body and my color bones I noted, when I pulled the neck of my shirt down, stuck out like the bones on the hind end of a cow.

I sighed, hoped off of the counter and unlocked the door. This time I knew which way to go and I turned left to pass the pink room I was sleeping in and then left again to hit the stairs. I felt like I could cry. I looked like some freak, but then again, that's what I was, and would always be. I felt the telltale pricks on my nose and my sight became blurry around the edges, and I wiped the water away with my sleeve before it could fall.

Around halfway down the stairs I remembered why I had looked at myself in the mirror in the first place. I halfheartedly restarted my search for me in the mass of photos. There was nothing. Then again my eyes were so blurred that I nearly missed a step on the stairs, so I guess missing one person in a portrait would be foreseeable.

When I hit the last stair my eyes had stopped watering, and I found myself staring at a black and white photo of four people all dressed for Sunday Mass. Behind them was a tall oak that was cut out of the picture part way because of its great height.

On the far right a woman sat on a woven wicker stool, which was just barely visible behind her large cream dress. Her legs were crossed and her dress reached down to her knees, one small leather boot peaked out from under the heavy layered material. There was a tight bun pulled atop her head and a few tendrils of pale brown, or at lease that's what I thought it was, had wiggled out of their confinement and were slightly askew on her brow. Both of her hands were wrapped around a small girl.

She was dressed in the same colored linen as her mother with the same colored hair, that pastel, watery brown that showed up as grey in the picture. She had one small hand woven around her mother's middle finger, the other clasped in larger, but paler fingers. This one, pale hand, paler in fact than any of the other's skin tones, belonged to a girl with one skewed ear.

My breath hitched.

In the picture I had small cream-colored church shoes on and a matching dress to go with my mother's and sister's. The thought of saying those words those simple words 'mother', 'sister', it sent shivers down my spine. The only thing different about my dress from my mother's was that it came to a halt right below my knees, fluffing out a bit, and it was tied with a white bow. A matching ribbon was placed in my hair, which was cut in a flapper style, that just barley reached my chin.

I saw only two things that set my stomach on edge.

The first, and also one that I thought to be the easiest dismissed, was my skin color. Tinted by the black and white photo, my skin took on a grayish appearance in the summer light; it was much paler than all of the others in the picture, even my baby sister's. Again the tingles ran down my spine at the thought of my having a family, at having a sister. When I looked at their faces, my mother's and father's, I saw that they both had low cheekbones, much lower than mine that I had seen in the mirror up stairs. It seemed off, too, that I was the only one, my sister included, with a smile on my face. To me that was out of place, weren't you supposed to smile during a picture?

The second thing that disturbed me was the fact that the man in the back of the picture, with his hair neatly parted and combed to one side, had the oddest expression on his face. It was one that scared me for some unknown reason. His lips were like that of my mother's, thin and pinched. But unlike her lips, they were slightly up and turned at the edges to make them almost sneer-like, and it made my skin crawl.

~****~

**Ok, so that's that, I didn't like this chapter as much because there was really no dialog, and I hated that part of it, but I really wanted to show what the hospital has done to her physically as well as mentally. Next update there is DEFINITELY dialogue. **

**Hey everyone! Here's the deal, I got plenty of hits, alerts, faves and what not, but very few reviews, so I'll post the next chapter when I have a few reviews, ok? **

**So until then……. Thanks and ………….Tusch! :)**


	4. Grits

**Disclaimer: She owns it not me, enough said…**

**Hey, to all of you out there thanks for poppin' over and checking out my story, it made me feel just, so happy. Here's the next chapter hope you like it, though I am sorry that I didn't get a chance to have it totally edited. So, Sorry ahead of time for the bad grammar. **

**I hope ya'll like this one, it's a bit shorter then my last couple, but, hey I think enough happens to be semi-interesting…..so have fun, and please, please, please review!!!!!!**

**I would really love that d(-.-)b**

**APOV:**

I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye. For some reason the only thing that came to my mind was the man in the picture with his sneer and his fingers wrapped too tightly around my mother's shoulder. My heart started to pound hard and fast, and I jumped to the side bringing my right arm up close to my face.

Why would I do that? That's not a normal reaction…is it?

I heard her voice before the face registered, "I thought I heard you walking around up there" It was Mim, only Mim. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. She smiled and her face wrinkled even more than it already was. It reminded me of squishing and un-squishing a prune. She either didn't notice me wince away from her, or didn't care to acknowledge it. I lowered my hand. "Good morning Dearie," she said.

I was still in shock from her sneaking up on me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Why hadn't I heard her? Maybe I was just thinking too hard….

I mumbled something to counteract her previous comment, but I found that even to me it was unintelligible. When I looked back at the old woman her expression had changed. And that happy-go-lucky smile was replaced with a small frown. An extreme depth had entered her eyes that I had never noticed in her before. She sighed, and I had to look away. It was like her eyes were boring straight into me, into my soul. Instead, I decided to inspect the floating molecules of dust in the air and the specks of dirt on the floor. I really don't know how long we stood there in that odd calculating silence, it could have been minuets, it could have been hours I don't really know. When she did finally break the silence it was the last thing I had expected to hear from her. I was truly shocked.

"When I went in," she said with a small sigh, "They told me that you remembered nothing." There was that same pain behind her eyes and it stung at my heart, making me desperate to fix a smile on her face again. "It was my fault for not believing them," she moved her hand to trace the frame surrounding the black and white photo, and gazed intently at it as if her life depended on that one old snap-shot of time.

I found myself staring at the photo too, and a pressure built in my chest that, for a second, felt totally over whelming. Like an ocean of some foreign emoting drowning me, crushing me. Was this what grief felt like? And if it was, how could one grieve for something one don't even know, or remember for that matter?

"You don't know them do you," Her voice was soft and casual as if she was commenting on the weather or the news in the paper. She didn't look at me; she was still staring at the photo hanging on the wall.

I shook my head and then realized she wasn't looking my way, "n-no" I stuttered. My stomach was oddly jittery and tight. I could feel my muscles twitching and sweat beading on my palms.

Was this the only reason she kept me, just because I knew about my past?

Just because I knew…Because I knew… I knew…. No… I knew… nothing….

The resonating fact hit me square in the chest, and for a moment it felt like someone had rammed me head-on with a bus. The words seemed to dance around in my head, spinning my mind in circles until it felt hard to breathe, and simply standing became a mind-boggling task to perform.

But I didn't know. I didn't know….. I didn't know anything, anything at all, really. This was the first time I saw my family, at least that I could remember, other than that I kept drawling a blank, a frustratingly empty, expansive blank.

If this, being able to remember, was the only motive for her keeping me, then…. I felt my stomach turn and tighten to the point where I though it might vomit… Then she would send me back. Back to the hospital…I felt like I was falling…My mind began to spin faster.

No…

Oh God no…

Never…

I couldn't, no, I wouldn't go back to that place. I was just a barcode there, another mindless mouth to feed. Nobody cared, nobody. My nose started to hurt and my vision blurred.

Why? I had been so good for her thus far, could she really hate me just because I couldn't remember…. Could she?...

I risked a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She didn't look mad, and her arthritic hand was still resting on the frame of the picture. She hadn't moved. It was as if her body was set in stone. Her eyes, as far as I could tell, held no anger at all, just sadness.

Maybe she wasn't mad at my lack of knowledge. Maybe she would keep me, even if I couldn't remember… maybe…. just maybe…

I was still acting as thought the dust floating around in the air was the most interesting thing in the world when she finally moved. She stroked her hand over the border a few more times before pulling it away and looking at me. There again was that piercing, sorrow-filled stare. She took a deep breath then let it out. Slowly she placed her crinkled hands on my face, cupping it, and moving some of my hair away with her thumbs. "I'm so sorry," she said. Her features still pained me to see, and I wanted so badly to make the sad go away, but I couldn't will myself to move.

Why was she apologizing? Was it because she really _was_ going to send me back to the hospital or was it for something else? My eyes had stopped watering at this point and my head had ceased its spinning. But, I was still so confused, why was she apologizing?

"Timothy," she stroked my cheek again. Her voice cracked, and her eyes came out of focus like she was looking at something else, something far away, "he just got lost, so easily…" She spoke the words quietly, one by one, bit by bit, like they hurt her when they came out. As if she wanted no one else to hear us, even though we were in the house alone, "Please," she begged, "don't blame him…" she shook her head and began to hum, or moan, I couldn't tell which, under her breath.

And that was it; I didn't even know who 'Timothy' was, nor did she elaborate to me any more.

We stood there for some time, her cold hands on my face and my hands sweaty and wet, just staring at each other. Or at least I think she was staring at me, her eyes were still a little unfocussed.

After a while she turned to me, eyes wide and almost anticipating. I assumed she was expecting a response from me, so I just gave a small, dull nod. My body was too stiff, too shocked, to do anything else. What did she mean 'he got lost so easily'? Who was 'Timothy'? And why shouldn't I blame him? What did he do?

While I was pondering over her words she removed her hands from my face and, throwing one more glance at the picture of me and my family, turned and began shuffling away. I was still a little dazed from what just happened that my grumbling stomach hardly even registered.

Mim must have heard it though, because she stopped her shuffling and turned her head to look over her shoulder, "You must be hungry, come on, we'll make some breakfast for you." Her old tooth-filled smile was back and I couldn't see that heartbreaking depth to her eyes any more, "How does grits sound?"

"Um… Okay…?" It came out more like a question than an answer. Did this mean she wasn't going to get rid of me? I didn't want to let my guard down, but that smile was really hard to resist.

I took her up on the offer and trotted into the kitchen after her. It was large and spacious and seemed to extend out further than the piano room. To the left at the very far end of the room there was a bathroom and a door through there leading out into the small back yard. Windows draped in a thin, light green curtain allowed a somewhat clouded view out onto the quart yard's crooked stone patio. There were bird feeders strung all around the place, though it was mainly just pinecones smeared with peanut butter and seed. A frozen bird bath was sitting under a twisted old tree; it was perched somewhat haphazardly on a cracking cement post. The same black rod iron fence from the fort lazily trailed its way around the property, slanting here and there in the muddy earth.

The kitchen had large egg-colored tiles on the floor and the walls were coded with fern-green blocks of small tile. They trailed their way to the ceiling and stopped. The appliances in the room were old, and they reminded me of something I would see in an episode of 'Full House' or 'The Golden Girls'. There was a small island that doubled as a bar in the center of the room. If you turned left as soon as you entered the kitchen you would run right into an oak set of Shaker high-backed chairs and a round table that didn't match.

I pulled out a seat from the table and sat down with a huff. This morning was taking so many turns already, and it wasn't even nine. I exhaled again trying to clear my mind so I could separate my thoughts from real life. The question was still on the table if Mim was going to give me back to the hospital or not. Bile rose in the back of my throat and the strong distaste of the place gave me the courage to broach the subject.

"Mim" She looked away from the box of instant grits she was holding and stared and me. I looked her dead in the eye, trying to keep my face as neutral as possible, "Are you going to take me back to the Hospital?"

Her face faltered and then dropped into a frown. What can I say; I had a thing for bluntness. It was one my few traits the nurses ever felt the need to comment about, other than the whole certifiably insane thing, but that kind of went without saying.

"Why would you ever say that?" She asked, her voice bewildered.

This statement confused me to no end, "Well aren't you going to give me back because I can't remember anything?" I looked at her from under my eye lashes. I was starting to feel stupid for asking the question; maybe I shouldn't have said anything.

"Now, why on God's green Earth would I do that?" She put down the box she was holding and stared unbelievingly at me.

This answer shocked me, and relieved me at the same time. I felt a great smile snaking its way across my face. "Really, you really mean that?" I asked, because if what she was saying was true, then I would never, ever have to go back to that terrible place again.

"Alice, memory or not, I wouldn't trade you from the world." Her eyes had a deep look to them again, but not from sorrow this time, I think it was from something else. I just wasn't sure what.

I grinned even more to the point where my cheeks hurt and my gums ached. Then I felt the smile turn into something else and my face scrunched up and twisted. A great weight that I had never known I had lifted from my shoulders. And a warm feeling moved into my chest. It was so warm in fact that my chest began to hurt and my lungs ached and the warmth began to burn me through. My nose began to prickle and this time I couldn't hold back the tears any more.

Soon I felt Mim rubbing my back and crooning something to me, but I couldn't make out the words. The tears were hot as they fell down me cheeks. They ran into one another, bumping and crisscrossing on their way down to my chin where they dripped off onto my sweatshirt. My lungs were on fire, and my whole body was shaking and hiccupping like mad. It was a kind of cry I seldom had, where all you can do is focus on sucking air in, just enough to breath, exhaling, and doing it all again. And the funny thing was, I didn't even know what the devil I was crying about. The tears just kept coming and coming and I couldn't stop, eventually I gave up trying.

Maybe I was crying about the unknown 'Timothy'. The one I shouldn't blame, but still, for some reason, unbeknownst to me, I held a small resentment towards. Or the family I could never remember who stared at me from their still-life picture. Maybe it was the gaunt looking girl who looked at me every time I peeked in a mirror, her eyes all tortured and scared. At that point in time I really didn't know, maybe it was for none of those reasons that I cried… maybe it was for all of them.

Looking back on it, I think I was just crying to cry. Like it was another way for me to shed the vast weight from my shoulders…. another way to shed the sad from my heart…

~****~

**Ok, well that's that, I hoped you liked it. And yeh, I know it was depressing, sorry, but don't worry, Alice will get better just you wait and see!!!! :) **

**Also, I got a few more reviews for my last chapter, but, *crosses fingers* could I hit, maybe, like 12 or 13 total this time please?!??!?! I would like more to look at while I'm writing the chapters (it makes my type faster) * gives gaga eyes***

**I'm more than half way done with the next chapter, the more reviews the sooner I'll update!!!**

**- Tusch! **


	5. Déjà Vu

**Disclaimer: **

**Roses are red, **

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own Twilight,**

**And that's shitty as poo…**

**Ok, well I know, I took a little longer on this one, and the sad thing is it isn't even that big of a chapter…. *sigh*….oh well, what is, is…. So read, and please review at the end please? **

**Also, didn't have much time to do a BIG grammar check, so be warned, I think I got the most of it… tell me if I didn't… Happy reading!**

**APOV:**

God only knows how long I stayed there, head between my knees, tears leaking out of my eyes. Eventually my body ran out of water and I got enough of a hold on myself to stop. I could tell my eyes were swollen and red. My body was still shaking; the cry had seriously disturbed me. 'Why did I do that?' I kept asking myself. But, no matter how many times I asked I couldn't find an answer, at least not one that felt totally right.

Mim had me go into the living room to watch TV while she started the grits, and an added bonus of bacon. Nothing was really on that I liked to watch, not that I liked to watch TV in general. I usually enjoyed my visions much more. But with my recent breakdown I thought it unwise to try to stress Mim out any more in one day.

I compromised with myself and turned the TV on, but kept the volume really low. My mind wandered around the room inspecting all of the pictures sitting atop the bunny-eared television set, on the bookshelves and end tables. Some were serious, like people gathered by an alter singing an inaudible praise tune, while others were funny. One in particular caught my eye; it was Mim along with a few other elderly women gathered on her back stone patio, glasses of ruby liquid raised high over their heads. On each of their shirts was printed the words 'Group Therapy' which hovered over a design of three filled wine glasses. I felt a smile touch my face and the confusion and scariness of what happened a few moments ago seemed to melt away a bit.

Taking a quick glance up at the old grandfather clock that stood guarded by the front door I notice it was two minuets past nine. The vision I had from last night popped into my head and I felt my spirits fall for the umpteenth time that day. For sure the clock in my vision had told me it was nine when the boy came. I knew that sometimes my visions were off. Like the person in them had taken a completely different path in their life. Maybe the boy had done the same…

I got up and tried my best to crane my neck around the window to see if he really was here, and maybe just waiting. But to no avail, there was no one out there. Then again what was I expecting, him to just rush out and start tap dancing on the front porch and yelling that he wanted to see Alice, that he wanted to shake my hand? I laughed at my self and the laugh felt good. Going back to the sofa, I added some spring to my step before I dove back down on it.

Instantly small bits of fluff, dust and other particles flew into the air whooshing this way and that. Surprised and totally intrigued at the odd spectacle I raised my hands and let them crash down onto the cushions. More dust launched itself into the air and began to dance and jump around creating more swirls and spirals with the previously disturbed dust molecules. Again, I raised my hands and brought them down onto the old couch, and again more dust sprang into the room. Light from the windows hit the particles and sett them ablaze with brightness.

I picked up two of the old navy blue pillows from off sofa and stood up glancing quickly into the kitchen to make sure Mim was totally preoccupied before smashing the two pillows together in a head-on collision. This was a much more efficient way to procure the dust, for it puffed out of the pillows in much greater numbers then my previous slapping of the cushions could give me. I banged the pillows together again and again until the room was so thick with dust it almost looked like smoke was rising from out of the floor boards.

Standing there I watched all the little squiggles of dust float about the air. I would occasionally wave my hand or blow into the dust so that it would twirl and churn faster and in more deviant directions.

Yes, this was much better than TV….

"Alice," I heard Mim call from the kitchen. Instantly I threw the pillows back to the couch and spun around just in time to see Mim walking trough the archway. "Breakfast is re-" her words cut off.

She stared at me for a moment and I'm almost positive it was because of the huge smile I was wearing. I reminded me of the shit-eating grin I saw on children's faces' after they've stolen candy, and know they won't get caught.

"Hey Mim," I wanted to see just how far I could push this one. With me, once you start me up I just keep going. Add one ember of happy to my hearth and the whole house explodes in flames.

"Hello Alice…" she said, her voice trailing off at the end. I saw her eyes following random pieces of dust around the room. One floated so close to her face that she went cross eyed for half a second trying to keep it in sight. She looked back to me, her face almost completely blank except for a small fleck of curiosity.

"Mim?" I said moving up on my tippy-toes and looking around the dust-filled room, "I think we need to vacuum this place," I moved my hand next to my cheek like someone would do if they were trying to whisper something. "It's very dusty." I winked at her.

I saw her expression soften, and then she began to laugh, at first soft then louder and louder. She shook her head, still laughing, and said, "Not for the world, Alice, not for the world…"

My heart swelled and I skipped past her into the kitchen and she shuffled slowly behind me. A large pot of grits was bubbling lazily on the stove and a tray of bacon was still hissing on the stove beside it. There were two bowls sitting on the round table and a saucer filled with butter in the middle of the two.

"I never had grits before," I said looking over my shoulder, "Will you teach me?"

She gave a light laugh again and said, "Sure I will, but, be warned it's very hard thing to do." She winked at me like I had done to her earlier, and I could feel myself positively beaming. "How about bacon? Are you okay with that?" She asked poorly disguising her prune-ish smile, and waggling her snowy eyebrows.

"No, I think I should be fine with those…" I gave the bacon a dirty look, it sizzled in response, "Yeh, I think they'll behave…" Mim laughed again.

She picked up her bowl and I grabbed mine following her over to the bubbling pot. Just as she was spooning her grits into the bowl I heard a knock at the door. We simultaneously turned our heads towards the noise, Mim's reaction just a hair slower than mine.

"Would you get that Alice, dear?" she asked turning back to the stove.

"Sure," I honestly couldn't imagine who it could be, I hadn't seen anybody coming other than that one boy, and it was now past nine, so it couldn't be him. As I walked through the living room I noticed all the dust still floating around and felt an odd sense of déjà vu.

As soon as I turned the door knob reality hit me. The bacon was still sizzling in the background, and dust was still twirling in the air. _The vision_ I thought, I took a quick glance around the room and crossed my finger that it would be him. The scene _seemed_ right.

When the door was opened a boy stepped in and I heard the glass screen door slam.

"Hey" he said throwing a glance at me while he kicked off his mud caked hiking boots and shut the door. I noticed the logo was from a company called Patagonia. I had never herd of that brand before. Three sticks, some with a few of their dry, brownish leaves still on them, were sticking out in different directions from his hair. I notice there was still the green rubber band I saw from last night in his hair. His hair had a slightly dark sandy tint to it, darker in some places and lighter in others. It probably reached past his shoulders by the look of where it ended. His eyes were still that vivid Irish green that sparkled like mad. It reminded me of St. Patrick's Day when everything in the Hospital was covered in something jade or emerald. He had on the old cut up jeans the ended by his knees, and the t-shirt form before with all the oil stains down the front.

It was just like in the vision, dear God, it _was_ him.

As soon as his shoes were off he pushed his hand out in front of me. I opened my mouth to say something to him as he grasped my fingers in his, but I was cut off by the grandfather clock, which had decided to ring now of all times. I counted each chime… one…two… three...and so on till it hit the ninth stroke and the clock stopped its pealing sound.

"My name's Garret," he was still shaking my hand with a smile on his face. It was a smile like a kid would wear if they had just walked into a candy store and was told they could have anything they'd liked. "What's yours?" He raised his eyebrows and finally released my hand. Man, he had a strong grip…my fingers were tingling.

I had to think about the question for a second, and I felt somewhat stupid in doing so, "Alice" I finally said and had to smile up at him because he was way over a full head taller than my 4' 10". My guess is that he was about a good six foot, give or take a few inches.

**..................................................................................................................................................................................................................................**

**Well, I hope you liked it. The next chap hopefully won't take as long. Like before please R & R. It would make me sooooo happy if you did **

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…**yes I know, I have resorted to begging, and you don't even have to make it a nice review, if I messed stuff up tell me what I did wrong! Just PLEASE REVIEW!! (Just please, no flames) Could we shoot for two or three more than last time…? Pwease? *Sad Face***


	6. Freind

**Disclaimer:**

**Roses are red,**

**Violets are Blue.**

**I don't own Twilight, **

**And that's shity as poo…**

**OK, I know I know it took me. Like forever to finally get this thing up and running… But for my defense I was catering all weekend for a wedding and midterms are coming. **

**Much love to all of those who reviewed for me I really do appreciate it. And I will try to get the next chapter up sooner!!!! **

**Happy reading!!**

**APOV:**

Before I could say anything more to him I heard Mim holler to me asking who was there. "Who do you think?" Garret hollered back in a friendly way. He moved past me and into the kitchen. I followed after.

Mim gasped when she saw him and nearly dropped the bowl in her hands, "Is that all your wearing?!" she said in a squeaky high-pitched voice, pointing a quivering finger at him. Garret nodded. "Where is your coat dear boy?" She placed the bowl of grits down on the table and scuffled over to have a better look at him. "Oh Lord boy! Your skin is freezing!" she whispered after touching his cheek. I noticed that the hair was raised on his arms legs, and there were the small beginnings of goose bumps on his pale skin. But not once did he shake or shiver, at least not that I took notice to. But then again, I was watching him very closely, he was like a phenomenon to me I had never seen a real boy outside of the hospital, and I couldn't help but ogle a little.

I heard Mim saying something about fresh blankets when she left the room. We waited in a silent truce until the stairs stopped creaking and Mim reached the top landing. I must have had about a thousand questions buzzing around in my head at the time. Who are you? Where do you come from? Where do you live? How old are you? Can you speak a different language? Do you go to school? What's 7 times 6? Do you have a dog? Is his name Rover? I know that some people kept animals as pets and I wanted to know how that worked. I had never been allowed to have a pet, even when I caught a squirrel all by myself from outside of the ER. (And let me tell you, a squirrel is not the easiest thing to catch).

I looked over at him again and he just kind of stared at me in a funny way, "How about I grab some grits then answer your questions… ok?" he nodded his head as if agreeing with himself.

Then the sudden thought hit me and I blurted out, "Did I say all that out loud?" I felt horrified, and I could feel my face flush. So much for giving him the 'I am a normal girl who most certainly didn't just come from a mental institution' impression. " Sorry… I didn't know I was talking." I tried to shrug and look sorry, that worked most of the times with the nurses.

He chuckled, "Boy, do I know what that feels like…" What was that supposed to mean? Before I could ask him though he moved over to the cupboards by the refrigerator and grabbed a bowl off one of the shelves. He walked like he knew where he was going, like he'd already been here. After getting himself some grits and sticking a few bacon slices into his bowl he came and sat down, motioning for me to do the same.

Globing a massive amount of butter onto his grits he began to stir it in, "Ok, I don't think I'll get all of these so just tell me if I miss one ok?" He smiled nonchalantly at me and I smiled back. I felt so good at that moment, I just can't explain it. It's like your whole body just relaxes and opens up to the world, like the doors to a flood gate gliding open and pouring out, and you don't feel as self conscious or worried. You don't feel so_ tense_.

"So…" he said looking at a spot on the wall and focusing really hard like he was going to use x-ray vision to see through it. "Who am I?" he asked himself, using his spoon for inflection, "I am Garret Neal DeKalb," he looked at me when he answered and I smiled, then he went back to focusing on the wall again. "Where did I come from?" he chuckled again, "Well you see Alice," He had a tone that one might use when explaining something really hard to a little child, "When two People _really_ love each other…" he put so much emphasis on the word really that his eyes scrunched up and his lower jaw popped out.

"Okay, Okay, "I said, halting him in the middle of his speech, and throwing up my hands, "I get it." He stopped, but grinned like mad.

I really didn't mind the whole sex talk, if anything I wanted him to go on. I wanted to know what it was all about. Why so many people giggled when the subject came up, and why it was such a taboo thing to talk about. I had tried multiple times to corner the nurses in my wing and toss out questions about this and that to them, but they usually put me down or called me a 'sinful child', whatever that ment. Sometimes I would do it just to spite them, though, I did have to be carful, if I did it too many times they would Velcro me to my bed. But I didn't much mind that either, it just gave me more time to think….

I was curious, I really wanted to know these things, but I thought it best not to have Mim walk into her great-granddaughter and some boy having the birds and the bees talk….

Yeah, definitely not a great idea…

"Okay… oh, right!" he said and shoveled another spoonful of grits into his already full mouth; I could hear bits of bacon crunching under his teeth. "I live on Beetled Road, it's just off of the Creek's Boulevard," he nodded, "Was that right?"

"I don't know, it's your house not mine, I would hope you know where it is." I didn't say it in a mean way, just a simple state-the-facts sort of way. I blew on my grits some more because they were still hot.

He cracked another tooth-ish smile and said, "What's the next one I forgot."

It was my turn to smile, "How old are you, and then, do you speak a different language?" I put a cooled spoonful to my lips, a moment ago I wouldn't have known what the next questions were, but sometimes I just knew what I had to say, it was like the feeling that I got during a vision that was saying 'this is how it's going to be'. I just knew, things just came to me like that.

"That's right," he swallowed so his mouth wasn't so full, "I'm eighteen, just turned too, back in December, and no, I didn't think I speak a different language"

"How does that work?" I asked, "How can you not be sure if you speak a different language or not?" I wondered for a second if I secretly knew French or Russian, but quickly dismissed the idea, because if I knew Russian I would have been able to read the sign on the pizzeria's window this morning. And the only French word I could think of was 'Puopon', the grey French mustard they sometimes served in the hospital's cafeteria.

"Well, you see I take a Spanish class, but all I do is stare out the window and fail most of the tests," he threw me a beseeching look, "For my defense, it is a _really _boring class, Tia and Ben can vouch for me."

I didn't know who Tia or Ben were, but I thought it cool to hear about all of these different things. Stuff I had never heard of while I was in hospital and couldn't recall from my earlier life. Stuff about life and school and friends. Especially school, that probably thrilled me the most. We passed one, Mim and I, when we drove to the house yesterday and I wanted so badly to see what it was all about.

"What else, or is that it?" he asked.

"Um, do you go to school, and seven times six…?"

He gave me a questioning look, "How in the world are you remembering all this stuff?"

I shrugged, "I think I just have a gift with it." I knew that the word 'gift' was stretching it, and the proper definition should really be closer to 'psychic ability'. But, hey, what he didn't know wouldn't kill him, hopefully.

"Yeah, gift, I'd say…I couldn't remember any of that…" he looked surprised and that made me happy. He wasn't screaming, or running, he was…impressed with me. Maybe I wasn't a total freak after all. "I go to Nanticoke High, you know the one off of Kosciuszko Street," he thumbed over his shoulder, "I'm sure you've seen it before."

I nodded enthusiastically like I had walked past the place every day of my life. Inside I felt my stomach turn; I never did like to lie, if any thing I was blatantly honest.

"And seven times six… thirty–five" He mashed another pile of grits into his mouth and chewed the bits of bacon.

I waited a moment doing the math in my head before saying, "No it isn't…"

He looked at me and raised his eye brow, "No, what isn't?"

"Seven times six, it's forty-two not thirty-five…"

He stared at me for a moment and then gulped down his mouthful of grits and smiled, "well so it is, oops, my bad…." He laughed, scraped the last bitts of grits off the bowl and into his mouth, and then said, "Next question please!"

But Mim walked through the door and cut me off. She handed several multi colored blankets to Garret and gave him a stern look, "Just because it warmed up a bit today doesn't mean you can go walking around the neighborhood in nothing but that." she motioned to his short pants and t-shirt before shuffling over to the stove and serving herself a bowl of grits.

"Oh, come on now Mim, it's nearly forty out there!" he had the smile of the Cheshire cat on.

I heard her give him a disbelieving snort over the pot. "It's January, Garret, and it's cold out there!" she pointed the wooden spoon at him. She had a protective, but yet comical look to her face. "Where did you come from anyway?" She moved to the table and took a seat.

Garret leaned back in his chair so that it was rocking on its two back legs and hooked his arms behind his head, "I was just over at Amun's place. Ben let me have his bed." He smiled. There was something in the way he said his last sentence that let me know Ben was fine with giving up his bed on a regular basis, and not just for the conventional kindness.

"If you want I can drive you back to their place to pick up your car." She said, but there was something in her voice that let me know she was testing the waters. I looked back at Garret but his happy-go-lucky demeanor hadn't seemed to change.

"No, don't worry about that, it's not over there, it's back at home. I had to jet."

Mim stared at Garret for a moment and he stared back at her before she broke off and he moved to the sink and putt his empty bowl in. "So how are they doing?" the inflection in her voice was casual, but it told me in an instant we weren't talking about Ben, or Tia, or Amun any more.

The water was running in the sink and I could hear the small squeak of the soap dispenser as the nozzle was pushed down. Did nothing squeak in this house?

"Oh, you know, same shit different day…" I saw him shrug his shoulders, and it shocked me that he would use such language in front of Mim, but when I looked back at her she didn't seem to mind. She just nodded her head and sighed.

"Garret," he turned his head to look at her, "Aren't you supposed to be in school, today _is_ Wednesday." She gave him a stern look, "You can't keep skipping, and you know that"

"Hey, I'm not skipping!" he looked a little insulted, but in a playful way, "Today's grad project presentations for the juniors. Ha! Gotcha!" he shot her a cocky glance, "How little faith ye hath in me!" He scoffed in a Shakespeare accent. I was beginning to like Garret more and more.

Mim laughed, "I apologize, I should have had more trust in you."

"So Alice, what's the next question?" he looked at me expectantly. Mim gave Garret a confused look, "Alice and I are playing twenty questions, aren't we Alice?" I nodded.

"Alright then, um, do you have a dog, and if so, is his name Rover?" Mim cracked a smile.

"No, no dog" he shook his head, "and nothing named 'Rover'" he leaned against the counter behind him, his elbows propping him up, "But I do have a bear, does that count for anything?" He said it so offhandedly that you would have thought he said, 'oh, yeah, and I have a goldfish named Nemo', instead of 'I have a bear'.

I stared at him for nearly a minuet trying to see if he was just pulling my leg or something, but he was drying his dishes and apparently didn't notice my stare. "You have a bear, like, an actual bear?" I couldn't help but sound a little disbelieving. "And it's not a Teddy or anything?"

"Yeah," He rolled his eyes, "of course I do. He's definitely real, his name's Barney." My mouth went a little slack, and I felt my eyes go wide. He must have caught my look because he threw back his head and laughed like I'd never seen a person laugh. It was such a whole-hearted and genuine laugh that his shoulders shook with the force of it. He finally regained control of himself and I think I was able to pull my face back together. "Mim, haven't you told her _anything_?"

She shook her head, "She just came here yesterday, Garret."

"Oh," I felt a rock hit the pit of my stomach and I braced myself for the rejection I would get. The nasty looks and names, and what not… but they never came. When I looked at him and he had that Cheshire cat-grin on his face again. "Well, don't you have a bit to learn around here?"

"Now Garret, go easy on her, be nice." Mim chided.

"Mim, why in the world would I do anything else?" He laughed, but not nastily, just a simple hearted laugh. "Are there any more questions, or can I fire off a few?" he asked.

I thought for a moment and when nothing came to mind I told him that he could go right ahead. "Alright, I won't ask nearly as many as you, my memory's not _that_ good." He tapped his head and winked at me. "First, do you like crapes?"

I couldn't ever remember hearing of them, so I just said, "I don't know, I don't think I've ever had them before."

His smile reminded me of the Grinch's heart form that old Christmas movie, you know the one where his heart just keeps growing and growing at the end, until it's just monstrous. Yup, that was just like Garret's smile, _just _like it. "Okay… are you allergic to skunks?" I saw Mim roll her eyes just out of the corner of my vision. She got up and grabbed my empty bowl and took it to the sink.

"No…I really can't say I am." I felt a little confused, but happy all the same.

"Good." He nodded to himself, "Oh, and one more thing," he said pointing his now clean spoon at me, "When do you start school, I need to know so we can reserve a seat for you at lunch."

His words almost brought me to tears again. _He_ wanted to save _me _a seat at _his_ lunch table. It felt like my whole chest was going to explode with happiness. I was almost one hundred percent sure that was what friends did for one another. Did that mean he was my…_friend_….or dare I say it… _first friend_?

"Garret, she doesn't go to school," Mim said. There was something behind her words that made me freeze.

"I know, I was just asking, when will she _start_." He countered.

"She's not _going_ to school." Her eyes were focused hard on Garret, like she was trying to convey something to him, but he seemed to completely miss the point.

"Well, why not?!" he said, she tried to but in but, he kept going, "She's perfectly capable for school!" I couldn't help but smile, he, my _friend_, was standing up for me.

"Garret, sh-" he cut her off again.

"She beat _me_ at times tables! Just now, kicked my but too!" This quieted her immediately. "And she has a fantastic memory too, you know school now a days, so long as you can memorize crap, you're fine!" he exclaimed, waving his hands in the air.

She turned to me, "Did you really beat him at times tables?" Her eyes were pondering over something, and I could see this was my only shot at getting into school; I had to use it wisely.

"Yep" I know I had only beaten him at one times table, and I guess technically,

_technically_ it would count as beating someone, because he got it wrong, and I got it right. So _technically_ it wasn't _really_ a lie at all, I was just stating the facts, or at least I was trying to tell myself that… it wasn't really working…

I heard her exhale loudly with a "hmm" I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, and I don't think Garret knew either.

"Listen, Mim, why don't you put her in for like, a week or so, just to get her feet wet, see how she likes it, eh?" he shrugged. She didn't look convinced and the rock lodged in my stomach seemed to scoot lower and lower. "And…um…" I could tell he was grasping for straws, "I-if you _still _don't think it's a good idea…" he threw his arms up once more, "Then fine, I guess the final choice is yours…_but_, I really think she could do just great." His eyes were pleading when he looked at her; it was the perfect puppy dog look. I don't think I have ever been so thankful to anybody in my entire life.

Her mind wasn't made up yet and I didn't need a vision to tell me that she would go back to her previous idea of 'no school' if we didn't do something fast. The thought made me shiver.

"Mim…?" I came out as a squeak, and I was still instantly surprised at myself. Both of their heads spun to look at me. I cleared my throat "I think I could do it, I really do," I could tell my confidence seemed to be growing as I went on and my voice wasn't quite as shaky, "I would work really, _really _hard. And besides," I shrugged and looked from the floor to Mim and back again. "I _want _to go to school… I do, really, I do…" At first I felt nervous with saying it, and still wondered whether it was I true fact or just another one of my lies. But, I found that as soon as words touched my lips I couldn't have mustered any truer ones if I had wanted to.

Mim's features softened the slightest bit and I think Garret saw it too because he chose the moment to chime in.

"I could grab the registration papers form the office tomorrow, and we could probably have her in as early as Monday."

She cast me a nervous glance, "She's never had any classes before, I don't think she would be able to catch up to where everyone else is, let alone handle the normal work lode." But despite her words I could tell her reserve was waning.

"It's January Mim, the school just started a new semester, so really there's nothing for her to catch up on." Mim opened her mouth but nothing came out, so Garret continued, "And as for the work," he snorted, "It's nothing really, you have tons of potheads all over campus and they still pass-" Mim shot him a nasty disapproving look, "What?!" he exclaimed. "They are potheads, we all know it …" She seemed to let him slide on that one because she stopped glaring darts into him. "So, come on… what do you say?" he waggled his eyebrows again and gave her an encouraging smile.

She sighed, and before the words left her mouth I knew we had done it. "Alright, alright" She looked at me then Garret then me again. "I suppose so, but if you ever feel uncomfortable, or think you can't keep up, just tell me, ok?" she gave me an almost pleading stare, "I'll pull you right out of there."

I nodded, but internally made note _never_ to tell Mim about _any_ of my school troubles…EVER.

"Great!" I almost jumped right out of my skin when I heard Garret's yell beside me. When had he moved? "Hey Mim, how about we celebrate?" She cast him a weary look like she knew what was coming was going to be unpleasant, but was going to take it anyhow. "Maybe, because she just got here, you could make some of your world renowned beef stew?"

She didn't look very impressed, and kind of had an annoyed look on her face like he had put her through enough today already. But there was something about Garret that I just couldn't put my finger on, like there was this overwhelming force around him that wouldn't let anyone get mad at him, so every one just went with him instead.

Well, I suppose if you can't beat them, join them….

"I'll run over to the store and pick up some ingredients" she said hesitantly, then looked him up and down once more before saying, "You're up to something…" Her colorless brows pulled to together, and she focused her stare real hard right at him.

Garret just grinned and shrugged "I honestly don't know what you're talking about." Even I had to raise my eyebrow at that one, it was probably the worst executed lie I had ever heard. He was practically giggling through it.

Mim stared at him for a minute more and said, "She doesn't have a coat, so no, don't try it."

His jaw dropped and they way all of his features fell in unison was extremely comical. I thought he would have said something to Mim for calling him out like that, but instead he turned on me with the most heart broken expression I've ever seen. "What do you mean you haven't got a coat?!?!" he exclaimed.

That was the last thing I expected from him. "And you're one to talk!" I shot back, more out of instinct than anger, like I said before I was finding it very hard to be angry at Garret. "You haven't got one either." I pointed out.

His face changed in an instant and I heard Mim laughing. He opened his mouth closed it, and then opened it again without a noise. The result was him looking very much like a surprised goldfish. When he was done he just looked at me with that most confused expression. "…Touché…" he chuckled to himself, "…. Touché…"

**Well, I hoped you like that, at least there's **_**some**_** dialogue compared to me other chapters… **

**PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Yes I know I'm begging again…..sorry…..**


	7. Squweeking

**Ok, yes i am alive and no... i don't own Twilight.....**

**I was going to add more to the chapter, but... I thought I had you waiting long enough.....**

**Thank you again for all who reviewed! (it made me happy)**

**Also, I have another story, 'Tag changer' check it out, here's the sumery:**

**MASH, Mobile Army Surgical Hospital. In 1950 the Korean War started and many MASHs had little supplies, but when Alice is confronted **

**with a ****dying man and a final request, what lengths with she go to to save him? Based off of a true story.  
**

**Chapter 7: APOV**

That night Garret stayed with us.

While Mim was gone he kept me company and talked about all sorts of stuff like, school and friends, and sports, and classes. He told me about the girl Tia who was apparently in his Spanish class, and the boy who she was dating named Ben. He talked about someone named Maggie and her sister named Siobhan and their friend Liam, who all lived by him. There was a band teacher named Mr. Wenceslas, like the song, but to be quite honest I didn't know the 'Wenceslas song', but I just nodded and he kept talking untroubled by my lack of knowledge.

He chattered to the point where I couldn't make head or tails of what he was saying to me. Names and places and times just blurred together. Though, that's not to say that I didn't absolutely love every minuet of it, because I did.

"Garret," I asked a question popping into my head.

"Hmm?" his body was hidden somewhere under a mass of blankets and pillows from the couch and I was laying on the carpet spread-eagle.

"What were you going to do that involved me and a coat?"

"Oh, I thought you would like to see Tia." He shrugged his shoulders silently and didn't say anything more for about ten minuets, but then started right back up again talking about this thing and that. Occasionally he would ask me a question but for the most part he just chattered.

Before I realized it my vision when black and my senses numb.

Shit… another vision… couldn't I at least pretend to be normal, even for just like _a day?_

…Apparently not…

_The clock by the door read five fifteen, which was actually five twenty seeing as the hands were ten minutes fast. Mim's powder blue Lincoln passed by the window, barley visible in the pre-black of night. The pizza shop from across the way was lit up again._

_There was a loud BANG! As the back storm door slammed behind Mim and she entered._

_Looking around I noticed there was only Garret in the living room; I was nowhere to be seen. _

_But before I could ponder on that fact any longer Garret chimed I, "She's upstairs in her room, fell asleep," Mim nodded and they finished unloading the rest of the groceries from the wrinkled paper bags and put them away. _

"_Maybe tomorrow we'll have the stew, would you be able to come by then?" Mim asked. _

_Garret stilled for a moment and thought, "Hmm, how about Friday? Would that work?" She nodded, "Amun's making humus, I don't want to miss it…" _

_She giggled slightly, "I know what you mean." I never knew someone so old could actually giggle; it was kind of a mind-blowing statement…_

"_Cool"_

"_You can have your usual bed tonight if you want" He just nodded his head and there was silence again other than the rustling of bags and the creaking of cupboard doors. _

_Then the edges of my sight began to fade as Garret headed to the living room._

My blankets were wrapped around me when I finally lifted out of my vision. I moved slightly and my bed moaned, peppermint permeated my nostrils with the tacky waft of mothballs sailing right behind. I could just barley make out the silhouettes of the furniture in the room. Through my window the pizza parlor's sign was flickering and sputtering.

Pressing my head into the pillow I took a deep breath and exhaled. I closed my eyes and snuggled in under the pink blankets and pulled them over my head. They were already slightly warmed by my body, and for some reason the warmth from the blankets made my heart pound and chest ache.

In one day I had found so much…

I had a great grandmother, a family, albeit I didn't know them, but I did have them… somewhere…

I was free out of the hospital, away from the nurses, the doctors… the food…Urgh…especially the food… Mim's was much better…

And… best of all I had a friend… now _that_ made me warm and fuzzy inside…I smiled at the thought, and though I couldn't see myself I was sure I reached form ear to ear… or at lease pretty darn close.

I blinked a few times to get the sleep out of my eyes, but I noticed that the blinking wasn't really helping my eyes at all; in fact they were getting worse. Eventually I opened my eyes and I wasn't lying in my bed any more.

_The living room was dark with the only light coming off the TV and through the archway into the kitchen. Mim shuffled in temporarily stating the light in the small room. _

"_Would you mind helping me pull the space heater from the basement? Alice's room gets the brunt force of the wind off the mountain and it's a bit chilly up there."_

_The 'Two and a Half Men' vanished from the screen and Garret stood stretching his arms out. "Why don't you just go to bed? I know where it is, I can get it," he half yawned through the sentence. _

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yeah, yeah, just chill, K?" he waved a hand lazily at her and moved to the s mall door just under the staircase. _

"_Oh, okay… well good night then…" she said and turned to start shuffling up the stairs._

_The vision began to fade slightly, and by the time Mim's last slipper covered foot disappeared up the stairs I was back in my bed again.  
_

I waited as the nearby drone of a passing car out distanced the murmuring from downstairs. By the time the car had passed out of earshot there was silence except for the slight creaking of the stairs ever few moments until a louder, final creek announced Mim's arrival at the top landing. A hum filtered under my door crack of my door and warmed my stomach even more than the soft blankets. As she turned down the hall the song faded until I couldn't hear anything at all.

The song filtered through my memory and it seemed to act like a dim ember in the empty hearth. Bright and recognizable at first, but soon, with no memory to feed it, dull and opaque with little luster and no brilliance. The tune sat heavily on my chest and it was no longer the soothing comfort it had started as, it was now an icy stone upon my breast, and it sickened me.

Where had my ember gone?

Where was my warmth?

There was another louder screech of wood and metal as my door swung open. I heard the shuffling and scooting as Garret moved with the space heater across the room's bunched carpet. I heard him place it on top of the squatting chest at the end of my bed and turn it on.

A low monotone buzz filled the room when he flicked the switch on; it was a surprisingly calming sound.

"Night," I heard him whisper on his way out.

"Night," I whispered back. I think he heard me because I could just make out the sound of a chuckle over the moaning of the closing door.

**Well, that's it the next update.. next chapter won't take so long, and there will be a Jasper!!! (Not just his POV) Alice will see him for the **

**first time!!!!!**

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


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